


Camp

by Skeletical



Series: Kieran's Moments [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 03:05:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17841230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletical/pseuds/Skeletical
Summary: A day in camp after finally being freed from that damn tree and Kieran contemplates.





	Camp

Kieran likes to just listen to the sounds of the camp. He likes hearing the women banter amongst each other and has to suppress and hide his smile when that Uncle feller goes on about that lumbago of his when anyone asks him to do  _anything_.

It’s strange, really. It almost feels like the van der Linde gang is a big family and Lord knows Kieran hasn’t had a family since he was young. Yet, it’s nice to look at. The young man doesn’t dare dream he’ll actually have a place within the family himself one day, not with the way they’ve all been treating him so far.

He knows it makes sense not to trust him; he ran with the rival gang and he sold them out easily. Well,  _relatively_  easy anyway. Kieran didn’t think going through the starvation and dehydration for as long as he was he tied up in the old stables and to that damn tree for was in any way easy to endure. But the gang hadn’t needed to do much other than mock him until he hit his lowest point.

And threaten to geld him, of course.

Still, Kieran can’t help but want to belong with this group of outlaws. They’re different from the o'Driscolls, he’s had long enough to observe them some more after he’d been freed from ‘his tree’ as the fellers had taken to calling it. They seem to care for each other and even Dutch, their leader, genuinely seems like he wants what’s best for this here group of people.

He knows he shouldn’t, but the young man still hopes that he’ll be able to win over the gang’s trust. He knows he can do good by them; not just with the horses or the camp chores. He can shoot, he can ride. Kieran is no stranger to robberies. He can help gather the money they need for supplies. If they’d just  _trust_  him.

The young man knows not to force it though. Just like you can’t force a horse to drink, you can’t force people to like you. He knows that all too well.

Kieran gets pulled out of his thoughts, is brought back to the present, by the irritated sound of Mrs. Grimshaw’s voice as she completely ignores him to step past him and yank the book out of Mary-Beth’s hands. He pauses, hoists the sack on his shoulder up a little more before he cautiously throws a glance to the two ladies behind him. They argue. The younger of the two women gets up from where she’s sat with a huff after a short moment and briskly walks off to tend to whatever chore Grimshaw told her to do. It’s when the older woman turns around and sees him still standing there, Kieran realises he’s been staring.

“What’re you looking at, o'Driscoll boy?” She spits and the man lowers his gaze to the ground.

“I ain’t an o'Driscoll, miss.” He replies, the words too familiar on his lips these days. He resents the fact that it’s becoming a habit. He has the sentence ready because he knows that’s the first thing he’ll have to say when someone addresses him. The words are the only defense he has for himself.

He doesn’t say anything more and turns away again, returning to unloading the cart of supplies and taking everything to the correct places in the camp.

Kieran ignores the derogatory mutters that are aimed at his back as he walks away. One day, they’ll see that he ain’t so bad.

One day, he’ll belong to this group of outlaws and they’ll all be able to laugh about these early days where everyone was distrustful and downright  _ **nasty**_  to him.

It’s nice to imagine himself a year or so from now, sitting with the rest of them at the campfire at night after a successful job. In his mind’s eye he’s sitting and laughing with them, drinking along with them as Arthur claps his back and tells him he did good.

Kieran can’t help but smile when he drops the sack off at Pearson’s station and he finds that the camp cook doesn’t look at him with scorn or disdain anymore. Even though he doesn’t get a thanks or a friendly expression, it’s enough to make the hope in the young outlaw’s chest blossom.

Somewhere, someone laughs and Kieran moves away to go to sit near the horses with that small smile still on his face.

 _One day_ , he thinks to himself as he lights the cigarette between his lips,  _one day they’ll warm up_.


End file.
